


Doctor Who - Whouffaldi - I'd like to Kiss You Before the Universe ends

by Samstown4077



Series: Whouffaldi [10]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Friendship, Love, Pre-hell bent, Romance, Sad, Tumblr Challenge, Whouffaldi First Kiss Challenge, hu-flu, revisiting after memory wipe, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 10:30:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5704363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samstown4077/pseuds/Samstown4077
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr Challenge, First Whouffaldi Kiss, the neutral block is working, but something is haunting the Doctor, the woman called Clara. On the other side, Clara always knows where her beloved Time Lord is. Study of the situation they are in, with an attempt on trying to understand how the neutral block could work. And of course their first kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor Who - Whouffaldi - I'd like to Kiss You Before the Universe ends

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr Challenge, proclaimed by [Antennapedia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/antennapedia/pseuds/antennapedia) to write a First Whouffaldi Kiss, and I participated with this story. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy, it's not the happiest of fics, I still work around the wound Whouffaldi has left in my heart. 
> 
> And yes, I know there is a change in tense in the end, but it seemed fitting, so I went for it.

Somewhere is always a planet in need, some time is always a person in fear or danger or just about to witness some ridiculous plan for conquering the galaxy - calling for the Doctor then. 

Or not, and the Tardis just brought him there because that was her job. Bringing the Doctor to the time and spot he should be, but not really wanted to be in the first place. 

Not that he had ever really complained since they had kidnapped Ian and Barbara in this old junkyard. The word probably wasn't kidnapped, only something similar, like 

“Oh ups, I fell against the handle and now the Tardis is taking us God knows where. Don't worry I got everything under control, but did I mention she has some malfunctions?“

Late at night when he sat in the Library, browsing his old diaries, he chuckled over such memories. All those people who had travelled with him, all those fondness he has for them. Including a lot of sad smiles he would always reserve for them, only for them — not one of them forgotten. Didn’t matter what history wanted to tell. Not forgotten. Partly maybe, blurry but not completely.

It was amazing how memories could keep one going, he thought. The last seven months he had spent to galavant around the galaxy finding or causing trouble — a matter of perspective surely — keeping himself busy, as he was the Doctor and boredom was something for beginners. 

Calling back on those memories every time it seemed he was on the brink of giving up or even regeneration. Then he asked himself, 

“What would Jamie do, or Lucie, or Amy? Sarah Jane?” the funny thing was, that sometimes he asked himself, “What would Clara do?“

A lie, as he asked himself this question every single time. Clara. The woman, he knew, he remembered her from somewhere. He had travelled with her. All those adventures. Laughs. Funny little jokes. Egomaniac needy … something. 

There was no face, no nothing. Only a shadow, something he thought he could grasp, and only sometimes when he catnapped in the Library he saw her. In his dreams. Unclear, then again clear as the day, only to startle awake reaching for her, and she was gone. Her face, just gone — dreams and their bad habits. 

Then he usually touched his cheek, because it was to him as if someone had touched him there while sleeping. At times when he was in a sulking mood he wished he could forbid himself to dream, and was glad he couldn’t do that — almighty time lord he was. 

She was a mystery to him, a persistent question in his head, nagging him, sometimes more, sometimes less, sometimes all too much. 

He wouldn’t admit it, but he started to constantly look out for her. In the corner of his eye, on the scanner in the Tardis or while running down a corridor or a mall somewhere on Earth. It was a very miserable thing to do, he thought, looking out for a person, a woman he couldn’t remember the face of. Impossible. That’s why he called her, the Impossible Girl. 

Sometimes he wrote the title on one of his cardboards, only to wipe it away again in frustration, finding the name way too ludicrous. In moments of certainty, the name was just something one of his old selves would have come up with. 

The one with the scarf maybe, he was good with being all too childish. Or maybe the one with the horrible choice in clothes. Well, one never could look ridiculous enough, so what?

Time Lords don’t get headaches, they just get grumpy or edgy or a horrible craving for sweets, and when he had eaten half of the Jammie Dodgers, he usually decided it was not good to think of it. 

And yet, he did.

Because she was real! Because she was somewhere, and because he knew he was missing something, and it was not her face! Not only memories!

That there was something in his head was clear to him very quickly, and he had tried to scan himself but the Tardis was a faithful friend not telling him anything. 

There was something, late at night, when he startled awake in his armchair. There was something. A whiff of a scent. The away fading sound of a wheezing. There was always something. It was impossible for him to understand. He didn’t know the neutral block was working fine in his time lord DNA.

#

She always knew where he was. What planet. What galaxy. What time. She had him on the scanner like a mojo on a dashboard. 

She couldn’t be without him, not too long. That’s why she kept visiting him. At first, she had thought it wasn’t the best idea, till she realized how the neutral block in his head really worked. 

The first time it had happened more by accident. On a planet, she had forgotten the name of, the sea lilac and the air did smell like honey. He was there. She was there, and they stared at each other the longest time. 

Recognition was what she had hoped for. Quizzical eyes she got from him. 

And yet. 

Just when she was about to sigh, and turn around to leave again, as she really was not able to take the pain, of him not knowing her. Of him not remembering what she had told him in the cloisters. Of him not having the faintest idea, that she loved him beyond belief, there was this little glint in his eyes. Like a spark or like someone had tipped against an endless row of dominos. There was something in motion, and when she met him again, he had smiled at her. Like he had used to do, in the old days. 

“Clara!” his nose wrinkling, his smile all teeth and his eyebrows all happy. Then he reached for her hand, pulling her with him like they never had separated, like nothing tragic ever had happened. “I really need to show you this!”

She might have free her hand from his, and leave again, but she never could bring herself to it. The thing was, he remembered her, their glory days of time travel, but not the cloisters, not Gallifrey, at least not their time there. Not her having her own Tardis, them pressing the neutral block together. Because the neutral block prevented it. 

The other thing was, he forgot again when she left. He was like one of those amnesia patients, only remembering the last 22 seconds of his life. Sort of.

So they had little adventures here and there. She took care it wouldn’t get out of hand, afraid the neutral block would breach, letting lose a dangerous time lord, turning the galaxy upside down only for her. 

When she made her goodbyes, she accompanied him in the Library as she had always loved this place. All those books, all those stories. He used to tell her some, asking her what kind of story she would like to hear and she used to say 

“Just make it a good one.”

When she rose, he rose too from his armchair, and that was always the moment he started to frown at her, the neutral block slowly starting its process to erase her existence out of the adventure they had together. It was always an incredibly sad moment for her.

“Doctor? Do you still can’t remember what we said to each other in the cloisters?”

“Cloisters?” he used to scratch his grey curls while trying to make sense out of her words. “No, not that I know. What did we say to each other?”

Clara smiled at him while approaching him, her hands reaching for his and he let her do it, watching her while she examined his large hands in her tiny ones. Drawing along the lifelines on his palm, long and deep. Her skin buzzing, her heart almost urged to beat again. 

‘Wasn’t she beautiful?’ he thought looking down at her. ‘And clever? And sweet? And why are my hearts suddenly so full of emotions?’ 

Clara knew he remembered, every single time they stood there in the library, holding hands. 

“I told you…,” he said with his distinctive Scottish brogue, making her look at him. “My Clara,” a whisper and then she went on her tiptoes, sliding her arms around his neck, touching his lips with hers while one of his hands came around her waist, his flat hand on the small of her back, pushing her up. The other hand, warm and gently, cupping her cheek, holding her close, while kissing her with a soft hum. 

First he tried to hold back, be gentle, be careful but then something came over him, and he leaned with more force into it, tipping with his tongue against her lips and Clara opened for him, meeting his tongue with hers. Tasting him, holding onto him, her hands in his curls by the back of his head, her chest pressed against his while he had lifted her up from the ground, to not miss one single touch of her. Warmth spreading through both of them. Wells about to break. Hearts about to beat again, others about to stop. A moment. Just the two of them. Time without any meaning. 

Everything ends. Every story. Every song. Every journey. Every first kiss. 

When they break away from each other, breathless, full of love and smiles and free of any doubts and fear, she giggles for a moment and he joins her, repeating what he had said in the cloisters. Of her being his everything. 

“How could I … I… ever … forget... you?” with a last whisper he then falls back into the armchair, the neutral block doing what it's supposed to do. And Clara? She kisses him on the cheek. Whispering into his ear, she will never ever forget about him, that she would remember for them both — always. Like he had two beating hearts, one for him and one for her.

Then she is gone again, stroking the Tardis console while passing by, telling her to delete her presence and the machine obeys, humming softly, like a hello or a goodbye or probably a till next time. 

Till the next first kiss. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you will leave a comment or a kudo, or a message somehow. I couldn't come up with any other idea for a first kiss. Okay, I am sure I can, but I think that fits somehow best into the canon. I am sure, I will never forgive Moff or whoever that they didn't give us a kiss.


End file.
